


A Long Time and Good Light

by Basingstoke



Series: Time and Privacy [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 17:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke
Summary: David shows Patrick his bag of dicks.





	A Long Time and Good Light

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Leupagus for betaing and for the comments that led me to add 1500 more words of sex scene. It was a good time.

Ray is out at his poker game, so they have time and space and a bed and Patrick cannot undress fast enough; he can't get his cuffs open and he's about to gnaw the button off before David rescues him, flips the shirt forward over his head, and tugs both sleeves off him at once. "Okay, that was hot," Patrick says, taking David's waist. 

"Not even a thread count that low deserves to be mangled," David says, and kisses him. 

David lets Patrick handle his shoes and socks--David even has nice _socks_\--and strips himself out of his sweater and undershirt and unzips his pants and Patrick peels the weird, stretchy fabric down his gorgeous, curvy legs and that's it, David is naked in his bed. 

He crawls up the bed and kisses David. It's so good to feel all this skin against him. So, so good. "Can we try something?" he whispers. 

"Of course," David says. "What do you want to try?" 

"Anything that takes a long time and good light, because I want to memorize every inch of your body," he says. 

"Oh my god." David pulls back, biting his lip. "You keep saying these things and they should be the worst lines and I love them." 

"I mean it.”

"That’s why it’s so great. Okay. I need my bag. Where did I--?" 

"Here," Patrick says. He pulls David's bag up onto the bed. 

David looks at him, eyes sparkling, mouth rolling from side to side. "Okay, so, you said you thought it might hurt me, so I thought I would show you exactly how much being fucked does not hurt me," he says. 

"Oh." Patrick has to close his eyes. 

"Kind of the opposite of pain." 

"'kay," Patrick manages. 

"So I packed a few things. So, I think...can you get me a towel?" 

Patrick gets him a towel. David sits up against the bed frame, towel under his butt, and Patrick kneels between his shins, wanting him badly but nervous to touch. 

"Want a hand job to take the edge off, or just jump right in?" David asks. He shimmies his shoulders and hips, nestling further into the bed; his fingertip rests on his stomach, just below his ribs, his other hand on the soft leather satchel.

Patrick shakes his head. “Jump in.”

"Okay," David says. "So." 

He has a sack of dildos in his bag. Patrick bites his lip, looking at them. 

"Pick one," David says. "I like them all." 

Patrick breathes out through his nose. There's a clear glass dildo shaped like a series of bumps with a loop on the end. There's a black silicone dildo. There's a hard blue plastic dildo. There's a chrome dildo. There's a thin purple dildo with a huge bulb at the tip. There's a-- 

There's David lying beside him with his fingers up his ass. "David," he says weakly. 

David just cocks his eyebrows at him and runs a finger of his free hand up Patrick's forearm.

"You're so beautiful," Patrick says. 

David smiles. "Pick one," he says. 

He likes glass. He likes bumps. He picks up the glass dildo tentatively. David nods and holds out his hand. 

"I have these because I love being fucked," David says. "I love it. A Pyrex dick won't hurt me and you won't either." David slips his fingers out--and Patrick is trying to focus on his actions, but he keeps being distracted by actually seeing, the purple-tinged pink of David's tenderest skin, the fine black hair on pale thighs, the way David's tan fingers flatten to white against the glass as he spreads jelly lubricant down the shaft--and he slides the glass dildo in. He lifts his chin, hissing out his breath and writhing down onto the glass. "Mm, I might need some help. Either take the dildo or hold up my hips," he sighs. 

He doesn't know what to do with the dildo, so he lifts David's hips onto his knees. David bites his lip, looking up at him; he slowly thrusts the iridescent glass into himself. "Okay," he breathes out. "Okay. I'm tilting it up, because there's--oh my god--there's a spot--oh my god, I haven't done this in way too long." David closes his shins around Patrick's middle. 

Patrick takes David's thighs in each hand, then slides down and tucks his thumbs into the crease of his hips and presses in with his forearms to let David use his body for leverage. He has a sudden flash of his first university economics lecture; he'd been in the front row, taking notes like mad, and that was probably the last time he'd paid this kind of obsessive attention to someone. His fingers itch to take notes so he flattens them against David's ass. David smiles up, his head mostly off the pillow. 

"There's a spot that feels so good," David sighs. He pulls the glass out slowly and slides it back in quickly. "So so so good."

David moves the glass dildo in short strokes, like he's scratching an itch. Like he's stroking his dick from the inside, Patrick realizes, watching David blush from cheeks to forehead to chest. 

"It feels," David says, pressing his head back into the sheets. "It feels so. It's so, I need you to take it, okay, take it--" 

"Take--?" He's not sure what he's supposed to do. 

"No, hang on--" David crosses his ankles behind Patrick's back, so Patrick braces his hands on the bed. "Yes, that's good, that's good, yes," David whispers, and he flexes his thighs, hauling himself up off the bed. David's dick touches Patrick's stomach and he makes a throaty sound. "Yes, fuck--" David's hand is moving in longer strokes. Patrick can't see anything but David's face and throat and his blush and his bitten lips, but that's enough; David is clearly having a really, really good time. The bag falls off the bed onto the floor and David doesn't even notice. 

Patrick wants that dildo to be his dick but he also wants David's ass to be his ass, or maybe he wants David to do this to him, or maybe he wants everything at once, but mostly he wants to watch David's face as he starts to come. Oh, god. He presses his mouth to David's jaw and throat and cheek and mouth. David slumps back down to the bed and Patrick follows him, still kissing. 

David sighs, twining his arms around Patrick's shoulders and his thighs between Patrick's legs. "So you clearly hated that," Patrick says. 

"The worst," David says. He licks Patrick's cheek. "Want to do that to me?" 

"I want you to do it to me," Patrick admits. 

David blinks up at him. "Meaning--?"

"Pretty please can you put a plastic dick in me and show me new frontiers of sexual pleasure?" Patrick whispers into his ear. 

David inhales sharply. "Oh my god." 

Patrick licks his cheek. 

"Oh my god, who are you?" David says, smiling broadly, delight painted across his face. 

"I'm a nice queer boy from Alberta," Patrick says, parodying his own accent. "Please, Mr. Big City, won't you show me your fancy ways?" 

"I am distraught and confused," David says. His eyebrows are drawn up to his hairline, he's craning his face away to beam at Patrick, and he's pulling Patrick closer with arms and legs in a tangle of mixed messages. 

Patrick is pretty sure how to read that, though, and he curls his hand over David's hair and kisses him deeply. His tongue in David's mouth feels even better than his dick against David's come-wet thigh. 

It's a strategic error, though, which he finds out when David's hands slide away from his chest and David stops responding to the kiss, because he's fallen asleep. 

Damn. 

Patrick rolls off him and takes a deep breath. 

Damn!

*

But as it turns out, David isn't out long. He wakes back up as Patrick has one foot up on the wall behind the bed and a finger in his butt, trying to figure out what David had been talking about.

He jumps slightly when David kisses his hip. "Um, hello. This is awkward," Patrick says. 

"It really is. That's why I have a bag of dicks," David says, smiling up at him. 

"I didn't want to try one without asking."

"You're a polite country boy," David says. 

Patrick pulls his finger out and wipes his hands on the towel. "So." 

"I desperately need you to ask for my bag of dicks," David says. His eyelids are low over his dilated pupils. 

Okay. Patrick stretches out, crossing his arms over his head, watching David's eyes play over his body. He loves how much David wants him and just how obvious it is. He loves how naked David's emotions are and how easy it is to make him react. "I need your big, steel cock," he says in a low, soft voice, watching a shiver start at David's abdomen and travel up his body to his shoulders. "Please put your big, thick cock in me."

David throws himself onto his back. His dick shivers bolt upright like a separate creature in his lap. "Okay." He sits up, jostling Patrick as he organizes his limbs.

"Or we could try the real thing," Patrick says. He glances back down to David's erection. 

"No, it's not great for a first time. I don't want to get caught up in what I like when I'm trying to show you what you like," David says, because he's perfect and generous and sexy and beautiful and perfect. "You mentioned the metal one but the thing is that always feels cold, it's more of a second level sex toy. I like it in the winter, when you're under like a fur or a really thick down comforter and you're just really warm and comfortable? And then you pull that out and it's room temperature cold and it feels like an electric shock, except not painful and it goes away, but then it's still a little cold every time you push it in, so it's a lot." He closes his eyes. His nipples are drawn up tight and erect from the thought. "Mm, it's a lot."

"So I should put that in my calendar for first snow?" Patrick says, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat. 

David nods. "Yeah. And I think I know where we can get a fur. Um, unless you object to fur." 

Patrick shakes his head. 

"Okay," David says. He slides off the bed and finds his bag on the floor. "Anyway, the silicone one is more giving and it feels more like a human than a sex robot from the future that needs to fuck your ass to recharge its batteries--" He stops, abruptly, and looks back at Patrick with a growing grimace on his face. 

"I am way into what you think about when you masturbate," Patrick says. 

David looks down. His ears are bright red. "Okay, um, noted." 

"The silicone one sounds good." He rolls onto his side and makes room for David to rejoin him on the bed. 

"Turn back around. This end is where feet go," David says. Patrick laughs, but does turn himself around. The pillows have been kicked off the bed with David's bag, but the top sheet is still in place and the quilt is hanging on at the foot. 

Patrick opens his legs when David nudges him, trying to emulate the position David had taken. He watches David slip on a purple glove and slick up his fingers. "Sorry, this is for--" David starts. 

"Sloppy butts," Patrick says. 

David rolls his eyes and smiles. "Also fingernails. I don't mind but you will definitely mind."

He slides a condom over the dildo, as well. Patrick is starting to be into all this prep. "So, what do you think about when you use this dick?" Patrick asks. 

The blush flares across David's cheeks again. "Um. I like men but also women, you know, but what I like best about women's bodies you can't buy, like the wetness and the softness, you know, the way you kind of sink in and then you hit bone. So I mostly, uh, fuck myself," he says, sliding his finger into Patrick, "and I can kind of think of an imaginary woman and be her, in my body, and feel what I want a woman to feel. Does that make sense?"

God, David's brain. Patrick has no idea what just happened in David's head and mouth but he nods, opening his legs wider. He doesn't understand any of it but he wants to hear every wild idea. 

"People think male and female bodies are so different but they're really not, it's all a continuum. Like the penis and the clit aren't that different, even in size. It's mostly whether it's all on the outside or mostly inside, and it's way less attached to gender than most people think. So use words when I put this in you, okay?" 

"Okay?" Patrick says. And David slides the dildo into him and Patrick inhales, arching his back and curling his toes, and opens his mouth but words aren't quite there, not when there's this thing, this pressure, this feeling. 

"Words please," David says, seeming slightly worried, so Patrick tries to find the English language. 

"Yes? Yes," Patrick says, sure that's right. David relaxes. "Yes," Patrick repeats, stroking his hand up David's thick forearm. "Thank you," is another good phrase, so he tries that out. David slides the dildo inside him and he arches his back and breathes out "thank you" a few more times, because of the bubbling, firework feeling inside him, and David changes the angle and the fireworks go off and he's breathing in all the air in the room and exhaling please and yes and thank you and clutching David's arm like David might stop if he lets go. 

Patrick goes past gasping, past yelling David's name, into high, breathy moans as the feeling just keeps building. He feels like his ass is the gateway to whole galaxy inside his skin. He never wants to stop. He doesn't even want to come. He wants David to do this to him forever. 

But he does come, and comes and comes, and it keeps going like a river flowing through his body. It only stops when he's exhausted and it starts to hurt and he presses on David's arm instead of grasping, which David fortunately understands. David pulls the dick out. Patrick's heart beats like the kick of a horse in his chest. 

He tries to catch his breath. The muscles in his stomach quiver and jump so he hiccups. David kisses his cheek and Patrick turns his face toward him too late, reacting like he's thirty seconds behind real life. David comes back, though, and tucks his face into Patrick's neck and strokes his stomach and his kicking, bolting heart. 

Finally Patrick's breath settles back in his body and his heart slows down and he remembers how to see. "Okay," Patrick says. 

"I was worried that we'd both be bottoms," David says sadly. 

Patrick feels around, finds David's ear, and strokes his cheek clumsily. "Um." 

"Hands," he says, kissing Patrick's jaw.

"Mmm," Patrick says. 

"Double-ended vibrators," David says. 

"Yes?"

"Probably too awkward," David says. "Um, oh, oh, like a sixty-nine, except, yeah, okay, we can do this, absolutely, yes, we can have some, amazing sex, plus I just, I really like kissing you." He grins at Patrick and rolls over, kissing him. "Finger me," he says into Patrick's mouth. 

*

Ray comes home as David is demonstrating the bulbous purple dildo on Patrick. It turns out it vibrates, and vibration is incredible, like his whole body is buzzing from his forehead to his toes.

But they both hear the front door open and know exactly what it means. David shuts off the vibration and whips the blanket over their heads. They cover each other's mouths in the darkness. 

Ray opens the bedroom door. "Patrick?" 

Patrick doesn't even breathe. His dick is prodding David's abdomen.

"Patrick, are you awake?" 

Patrick tries to stop his heart. He can see David's face faintly in the light from the door and sees he's biting down a laugh. 

"All right, door closed," Ray says, closing the door. Patrick sighs out his breath. 

"We should stop," David whispers into Patrick's ear. 

"Please don't stop," Patrick whispers back. 

David's eyes flicker over his body. "I'll just keep the vibration off." 

*

David presses his hand over Patrick's mouth as Patrick sobs through his third orgasm. They fall asleep that way. 

*

When they wake up in the morning, the real wide-awake daylight morning, Ray has clients downstairs. They both snicker helplessly. They're naked, sticky, reeking, and almost late for opening the store. "We need to wash really, really badly," David says. 

"If we share a shower it will just seem like me," Patrick says. 

"But there's someone downstairs. We can't just--" David stops and listens. "Patrick! That is baby's first photo shoot! We cannot walk of shame through a baby's first photo shoot!" 

Christening photos, Patrick remembers from the calendar. "It's fine, seriously." 

"It is not fine!" 

It kind of isn't fine. Plus, if Ray knows he had David over, he might turn on the light next time he comes home and finds Patrick in bed asleep. Ray is really, really happy that his relationship with David is going so well, which is great, but Ray and Patrick are still working on boundaries. 

"Okay," Patrick whispers. "We sneak out and go shower at the motel." 

"Sneak out where?" David whispers. He has a very good point. The stairs lead straight through the living room, which is Ray's workplace. 

"Out the window," Patrick whispers. 

"Absolutely the fuck not, I do not climb trees," David whispers. 

"So I sneak out and get the ladder," Patrick whispers. 

"No!" 

"It's that or you stay up here until he leaves for lunch. Pick one." 

David flings himself back and rolls his eyes. "Ugh, okay, fine, fuck," he whispers. "Pack two changes of clothes." 

Patrick packs two changes of clothes into a backpack as David gets dressed in last night's clothes. "I hate this plan," David whispers. 

Patrick raises his eyebrows--suggest a better plan?--and David gives in and listens at the door. "Okay, wardrobe change, you can go," David says. 

Patrick jogs down the stairs and waves to Ray, who is helping the parents change the baby's outfit. "Hi! Late for work!" Patrick calls, and leaves.

"Good morning, have a good day!" Ray calls behind him. Patrick finds the ladder, left in the back yard after gutter-cleaning, and props it up gently against the window blocked by Ray's business signs. 

David's unhappy face appears at the window. "Can we--oh my god. I hate this," he hisses down, but after a pause his legs slide out the window instead. His foot, flailing, finds the top rung of the ladder. 

"Got it. I've got you. We're fine," Patrick says softly. David descends the ladder directly into his arms and hugs him hard. He has the pained grimace on his face that means he genuinely hated that, he wasn't playing it up for drama; he must be scared of heights or ladders. Patrick kisses his temple. "We did it! Come on, let's go!" Patrick breathes. 

They run for the motel like kids escaping from school in the middle of the day. 

*

Unfortunately, Alexis is there at the motel. "Hi," Patrick says. David pulls him across the room into the bathroom. "Bye," he says, as David closes and locks the door. 

"DAAVIDDDD!" Alexis yells outside. 

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU," David responds. He cranks the water on. "Just get in," he tells Patrick.

Patrick strips down quickly and gets in the shower as soon as the water runs clear. David joins him, grinning. 

"I don't like being rude to your sister," Patrick says.

"I literally could not care less," David says. They’re both grinning at each other non-stop.

David washes them both with his body wash. Not soap, Patrick recalls. Soap is bad for the skin. Some kind of moisture thing. 

"Stop looking at me like that. We can't have sex with my sister in the next room," David says in his ear. 

"Sorry." 

"No you're not."

"I want to have sex with you until the end of time."

"We'll die of dehydration." 

"Not if we stay here in the shower," Patrick whispers.

"My God, I've created a monster." David kisses him. “How do you feel? Are you sore?”

He thinks about it; he’s not in pain, but he can definitely feel some kind of ache, like a workout of muscles he didn’t know he had. He presses his mouth to David’s ear and says: “I can still feel you inside me.”

“Oh my fucking God,” David says, and Patrick can see, literally see him turning on, until David reaches behind him and flips the water to cold. 

Patrick yelps. He rinses off at lightning speed so he can huddle against the wall away from the water. David lasts a few more seconds before turning off the water and looking at Patrick. 

“So.”

Patrick wipes drops water from his skin with the side of his hand. “So?”

“We need to decide right now if we’re going to work, or finding an empty motel room and fucking all day instead.”

He can feel the flush rising in his face. David pushes his wet hair back, just looking at him. “It’s a Saturday,” Patrick says finally. “People shop on Saturdays.”

David nods sadly. 

“I really, really want to fuck all day, though,” Patrick breathes. 

David tips his head back. “One, never say fuck again, because that DOES things to me. Two, do not kiss me, and actually don’t even touch me, or I won’t make it.”

“Three, there’s only one towel,” Patrick points out. “Who goes first?”

"No, we each get two, that's the deal--" David stares at the rack. “ALEXIS!!!” 

“I’M WEARING HEADPHONES AND IGNORING YOU!” she yells back, perfectly audible through the thin walls.

"THE DEAL HOLDS EVEN IF I'M NOT HERE!" 

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" 

"Honey," Patrick says, holding his ringing ears. 

"I'm going to skin her with the towel she stole. I will sit on her and sand her in the face with this cotton-poly blend until she bleeds." David snatches the one towel off the rack. "Okay. Okay. Top to bottom," he says, and he pats the towel across Patrick's face, then dries his own face, then continues to Patrick's shoulders. 

The towels are pretty bad. "I wonder how hard it is to make towels? Mary and Gary have that knitting machine," Patrick says. 

"Hm." David thinks about it. "Hm." 

"New product for the store, affordable luxury."

"Gary was trying out natural walnut dye, but white is more sanitary," David says. He gives Patrick his plush white bathrobe and wraps the small towel around his waist. He applies moisturizer to his face and Patrick's, which actually feels really nice. 

"Do I need to shave?" Patrick asks. 

"Do you ever?" 

"Once a month, at least," Patrick says. David's own face is thickly bristled. It looks nice, though. 

"You don't need to shave." David looks in the mirror and adjusts the towel lower on his belly. 

"Is that for me? Because--we really need to get to work," Patrick says. 

"It's not for you." David opens the bathroom door and struts out. "So what did you use my towel for, Alexis?" 

"EW! DAVID! NO NAVELS IN SHARED SPACES! EW! EW!" 

Patrick emerges to find Alexis holding her laptop over her face like a shield as David blows on her hair. She screeches wordlessly, stamping her feet, and David blows in her ear. She screams louder. 

"David, come on," Patrick says, laughing. "Put your navel away." 

"I'll find out if it's my last act in this world," David says. 

"I deep conditioned my hair! I needed two rinses! You were at Patrick's!" 

"The social contract stays in place even when nobody is looking, Alexis!"

"You used my eye mask!" 

"Nobody has ever used your eye mask!" 

"You stole my boyfriend!" 

"That was pre-room contract!"

"Whoa, I was always interested in David," Patrick says. 

David turns, his expression shifting. "No, she means Vlad. I actually didn't steal him, I just didn't bail him out after he stole Mom's Birkin bag." 

"Wait, he stole Mom's Birkin bag?" 

"What did you think I was texting you about?" David demands. 

"I thought--okay, now I have literally no idea. Ew, David, get dressed!" She had turned to look at him and flinched away theatrically.

"Okay, we're going to get dressed in the armoire, so it'll be safe in like five minutes." He points Patrick to the free-standing wardrobe, which, okay? It becomes clearer when David opens the wardrobe door and slides out a tall triple-hinged screen. They're still only twelve inches from Alexis, of course, but at least Patrick won't have to pull on his pants under his bathrobe like the locker room at school.

"Is it safe to take off the robe?" Patrick asks. 

"As long as Alexis obeys _this_ part of the room sharing contract." David drops his towel, though, so he's clearly not worried. Patrick pulls his clothes out of his backpack.

Alexis sniffs audibly. "Our towels are all washed in that big creepy machine anyway, so it's not like the towel is really yours. Anyone could have used that towel before you. Roland could have used it. The dead guy could have used it." 

"That hurts you as much as me, Alexis," David says.

"I realized that as I was saying it. Ew, gross. Ew. Okay, truce, so I can still shower tonight."

"Truce. We should definitely look into luxury towels at the store." 

"It does sound nice," Patrick says, tucking his undershirt into his jeans. "Okay, which shirt should I wear?" He holds up two shirts. They're identical. He bought them at the same store at the same time when he got his first job and needed business casual 

David is...tying his undershirt to his pants? Okay. He looks up and says without hesitation: "The one on the right."

Patrick frowns. "That sounded like a real opinion." 

"That one is sewn better and doesn't have that wrinkle in the collar you can't iron out." 

Patrick examines the shirt in question. "Huh." 

"It drives me crazy every time you wear it. Not in the sexy way, in the wanting to rip it out and restitch it way. If you give it to me I will actually do that," David says. He tops his outfit with what looks like an old, comfortably worn utility jacket. 

"I appreciate it. What brand of jacket is that?" He wants to know who makes designer Carhartt.

"Yeezy," David says. 

"I didn't know you had a Yeezy!" Alexis says. "I wanted a leotard but I was fighting with Kim." 

"People mocked the line but it was very wearable. I just got this back from Stevie, actually, she's been wearing it for like two years." David waits for Patrick to finish tucking in his shirt and pushes back the screen. 

"Oh, cuddly," Alexis says. "I love that look for you."

David does look cuddly. It's unfair when they have to scramble into shoes and get out the door and he can't even give him a nice long good morning kiss--

"No, Patrick! Look in the other direction so we can get to the store," David says. 

"Ew," Alexis says, but she's smiling at her computer screen. 

"Have a good day, Alexis," Patrick says, waving as they leave. She waves back. 

He sneaks another look at David as they start back towards Schitt Street, looks away, sneaks back, looks away, and catches David sneaking a look at him. David bubbles out a laugh and bites back a smile. 

"Can I hold your hand if I promise to keep it G-rated?" Patrick asks. 

"I don't know, can you?"

"I feel strong." He offers his hand.

David takes it, tipping his face up to the morning sun. He's so beautiful. His hair is ebony and bronze in the daylight, his lashes a dark feather on his cheeks. His eyes are closed, and he's letting Patrick lead him down the street, tired and trusting--

Patrick walks straight into a fire hydrant. He hisses, bending over, clutching his thigh. 

"Oh my god," David says. 

"Okay," Patrick says. He sits on the curb, riding out the pain. "Okay," he says, and he starts to laugh. "I'm going to Elmdale," he says, shaking his head, laughing at himself. 

"Are you okay? Are you going to the hospital?" 

"No, I'm going to Elmdale because I was staring at you so hard I just walked into a fire hydrant, because we're both a pair of goofs," Patrick says. 

"I have never in my entire life been a goof," David says. 

"So I'm going to go to Elmdale and pick up Ray's chemicals and our window cleaner and whatever other errands are going to keep me there all day, and then I'm going to get a motel room and some snacks and come back to town to pick you up, and then we'll try some stuff," Patrick says. "I feel like you half expected this, since you told me to pack two changes of clothes."

"Oh. Well. Okay. A little. I hoped. Maybe a motel quickie. I have your other shirt in my bag, FYI, I'm going to fix it at the store if we're slow." 

Patrick holds out his hand and David pulls him to his feet. "Ow," Patrick says. "That's going to leave a mark." 

"I feel responsible," David says, biting his lip. 

"So you'll kiss it better?" 

"In Elmdale. With snacks."

"Okay." Patrick says. He is, he reminds himself, a grown man. 

"I already have some ideas," David says. 

"In Elmdale." 

"My safe word is cantaloupe," David says. 

"Elmdale!"

end.

**Author's Note:**

> David's jacket: [Carhartt, but designer](https://image-cdn.hypb.st/https%3A%2F%2Fhypebeast.com%2Fimage%2F2015%2F09%2Fyeezy-season-2-closer-look-28.jpg?q=75&w=750&cbr=1&fit=max). I don't think the time frame quite works out--it's from the 2015 collection--but SC is pretty wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey so I'm not sure. The Yeezy line is DEFINITELY in accord with David's casualwear aesthetic tho.


End file.
